Always
by Deandra
Summary: Eomer and Lothiriel speak words of parting. ONE-SHOT. Part 188 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 188 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Have gotten rather hooked on the TV show Ghost Whisperer this year, and have been renting the old episodes through Netflix to see how it all began. Perhaps that is what sparked this.**_

**Always**

**(Oct, 63 IV)**

"Thiri?" The word that sounded so strong and firm in his thoughts, rasped out of Eomer's mouth in little more than a whisper. Despite that, she heard.

"I am here, my love," she replied softly, curling closer beside him on the bed and placing her hand upon his chest.

"I am dying," he acknowledged, his voice brimming with regret.

"Yes, I know." Her regret easily equalled his own.

"I do not wish to leave you. There is so much more I wanted to share with you, and with our children." Distress bled into his voice.

"I know," she answered soothingly, "I know." Her hand moved up to stroke his stubbled cheek, pausing as usual to run a finger lightly over his lips. Of their own volition, his lips fell instantly into the habit born of long years – he kissed her finger.

"I would not have you grieve me," he said, forcing the words out on an exhalation of breath. He was determined not to go until all had been said that needed saying.

"No, but it is inevitable. You cannot love much and then not grieve much at the loss," she told him, shifting her head nearer to his. "And I _have_ loved much!" she added fervently.

"Too much," he said, smiling, but she shook her head.

"Never that, but as much as I am capable, it is certain."

They lay in silence for several moments and then Eomer said, "I am glad I got to see Merry and Pippin again. They have been good and faithful friends through the years."

"Yes. I am sure they enjoyed the visit also," she answered, a smile crinkling her face.

"Thiri…what will you do when I am gone?" His voice was flat and heavy in the darkened room, and for a moment she did not respond.

At length, she told him, "I will do as I have always done. I will arise each morning and go about the work of the day. But mostly I will try to keep so busy that the ache in my heart from your absence does not overwhelm me to tears. Those I will save for the nighttime and darkness and solitude. I will watch our children and grandchildren grow and thrive, and joy in their accomplishments or sorrow for their struggles. I will see our eldest fulfill his destiny as the king of the Mark. But more than anything I will miss you terribly, and wait impatiently for the day when we can be reunited. I think the waiting shall be much worse even than when waiting to come to Rohan to be your bride!"

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and Eomer was not embarrassed that his face was also damp. Such a love warranted some emotion at parting. He would not distance himself from her at this final, crucial moment by adhering to the strictures of manliness.

Neither spoke again, and Eomer realized that there was nothing more that needed saying. He had never hesitated to talk to her in life about what he thought or felt, and he knew she had been equally open with him. Even at those times when he had held back, she had sensed it and come to nudge it out of him. Every word he had spoken had been safe in her keeping. Oh, how he would miss her! This parting was more than he could bear to contemplate, and yet he was so tired…

He could feel himself slipping away, but there was one more thing, the words he was determined to be the last he ever spoke. "I love you, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth," he murmured, almost too softly to be heard.

But her heart always heard him. "Lothiriel of Rohan," she corrected, pressing a kiss to his lips, "now and always."

THE END

11/14/09

Eomer died in the autumn of 63 IV at the age of 92. Lothiriel would have been 84 at the time. No, this does not signal the end of the Elfwine Chronicles. Someone once asked if I would ever address Eomer's death, and I did in a couple of previous Chronicles (Rituals, Life and Coronation). I still haven't been inspired to write an adjunct story in which Lothiriel goes to join Eomer, but possibly that will come along one of these days.

_**End note: **__** It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written.**__** The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content.**_


End file.
